


Please Master

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (kind of anyway), Alternate Universe, Bottom Louis, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Humiliation, Innocent Louis, Laughter During Sex, M/M, One Night Stands, Strangers to Lovers, Tickling, Top Harry, Verbal Humiliation, Virgin Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 08:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12626778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I was staring at you”, Harry says quietly, his fingers dancing on Louis’ heated skin, “earlier, on the dancefloor. I know you noticed me. But you’re used to people staring, aren’t you?”Though the question comes with a chuckle, it feels to Louis as though he is being scolded. Scolded, for he is desirable, and innocent, and untouched, and irresistible. Words, all of which were said to him by Harry as he requested his company for his endeavors for the night. It was the manner in which he said them, with a drawl so slow it reminded Louis of the way he liked to pour honey in his tea in the afternoon; through a spoon slightly tilted, each drop a triumph of its own. Most he had liked how the words had melted his mind as hot water did to honey; persistently, inevitably.And, much like he does his tea, it appears he prefers his company – sweet, steaming, and alone.“I think you enjoy it. The staring. I think you find pleasure in knowing you are wanted, a thrill in being chased. How boring”, Harry says, appearing indifferent to Louis despite the cruel nature of his words. “It’s a pity. You enjoy feeling like a slut, but all you need is somebody to fuck the seductive little brat out of you.”





	Please Master

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank my beautiful girlfriend for being the motivation I needed, as well as everyone involved in this challenge for their talent that they so readily share with the world. A special thanks to Ed, for inspiring me, and the girls of Oasis for their everlasting love.

"No, no no no", Harry shakes his head with the slightest hint of a smile before it disappeared, his face expressionless around the blindfold.

Easily, as though he's done it countless times before, he unties the knot with one hand, sliding the silk off his face. He keeps it buried in his fist, the hem of it hanging out as his now revealed eyes roam Louis' face thoughtfully.

If Louis knew him better, he likely would recognize the glint of a smirk in Harry's eyes, a sparkle of mischief where it glistened. As it is, though, Louis has no way of preparing for what happens next.

Harry raises his fisted hand and opens it slightly, the scarf now hanging from between his index and middle finger, slightly swaying with Louis' shallow breath hitting it on every outbreath, the gentle motion of the silk's swaying reminding Louis of that of the ocean.

And then the very corner of the silk slightly brushes his tummy, barely touching. It tickles in the best way imaginable, leaving a tingling feeling in Louis' throat and spine, his body jumping where the silk teases. 

"I remember you said you've never been fucked", Harry says on a deep drawl, punctuating his point with a rough thrust of his hips against Louis' thigh, "like you deserve to be."

In a moment of weakness, the silk now teasing right above his exposed crotch, Louis lets free a whimper he's never heard before; needy and soft, more pleading than demanding in tone.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Louis", Harry says then, his smirk tiptoeing at the border of evil, still landing on mildly amused and undeniably aroused.

Needy and confused, Louis bucks his hips up, hungry for a friction no longer there. Swallowing down another whine, he locks eyes with Harry. In a fleeting second of encouragement caught in Harry's eyes, Louis breathes out a quiet, demanding, "Fuck me."

"No", Harry chuckles, teasing the fabric up and down Louis' side, smirk turning lopsided as he watches the boy underneath him struggle and fail to stay still, his eyes exposing the neediness and confusion he's fighting hard to hide.

"H-Harry-" Louis' breath gets caught in his throat as the silk slides down his v-line, dipping down all the way to his filled balls before it's left resting on his thigh, carefully set so that every slight movement of his body teases the silk lower, closer to his inner thighs and crotch. 

"I'm not fucking you", Harry says again, the mere way the word falls off his tongue sending stormy waves of arousal throughout Louis' body. "I'm not gonna fuck you because it's your first time. I'm gonna take such good care of you, kitten. You'll feel safe in my arms as I make you fall apart so slowly, so beautifully.”

Not entirely sure what his less-horny self would do, Louis is sure what he wouldn't - yet he does now, a quiet, incredibly needy moan let free in the quiet room.

Harry laughs. It’s not unkind, but it heats up Louis’ cheeks in shame as they bathe in the sound of his needy moan that doesn’t seem to leave the atmosphere, stuck in the air they shared.

“Can’t believe no one’s seen you like this before”, Harry muses, shifting his hips ever so slightly where he’s hovering above Louis, making the boy underneath swallow a cry at the sight of something so sensual.

Harry frowns with a thoughtful hum, eyes roaming Louis’ sweaty body, burning where his gaze stops, staring intently at Louis’ exposed chest. “Have you ever come untouched, Louis?”

Louis doesn’t answer, though he highly doubts the sentence held much question to it despite the manner in which it was voiced. He shifts underneath Harry’s heaty gaze that hasn’t altered since it found the sight of Louis’ stiffening nipples, the silk resting on his crotch sliding down ever so slightly, his leg kicking on its own accord.

As though he doesn’t even notice, Harry rests his palm on Louis’ leg, the muscles of which still twitch as he fights his own body in its desperation to ease the tickling sensation, precum leaking down his bent dick and hips bucking up involuntarily. It’s a desperation Louis hasn’t felt before; a need to come so bad it’s bringing tears to his eyes, yet above him, Harry’s still staring, the thoughtful frown ever-present.

“H-Harry”, Louis gasps, feeling as though he’s losing control of his own body, the silk teasing him relentlessly where he’s most tender.

With delay, Harry’s eyes finally meet the blue of Louis’ again, and he smiles. “Kinda wanna leave you here”, he says as a smirk replaces the soft smile that had brought with it a fleeting sense of relief. “Tie you up and watch you squirm as you fight against the humiliation of your traitorous body. But it’s more fun like this, isn’t it, with nothing holding you back except the will of your mind. How strong are you, princess?”

It isn’t as much of a relief as Louis had hoped for, when Harry picks the scarf up again. With it gone from the heat of his skin, he blows air out of his lungs and wills his body to stay still as he seeks for answers in the way that Harry moves, but there’s nothing.

With the scarf hidden in his closed fist, Harry smirks down at Louis. “I’m gonna play with you”, he says, and it shouldn’t sound as hot as it does. Following Harry’s movement with his eyes, Louis shifts slightly to the left.

It’s all so new, feeling the heat of another man’s naked body on his. It’s fascinating what a simple touch can do, how a gentle brush of fingers can coax goosebumps on exposed skin, while a sound of the right kind sends shocks of arousal throughout the human body.

Louis wants to explore all of it; all of Harry. He wants to run his fingers along the side of Harry’s legs, or the inside of his thigh, or trace the shape of his nape with a feathery touch just to see his skin tremble. He wants to hear more than words, knows Harry’s always had a way with them but wants to know how to fuck them right out of him, to make him incoherent in a way the world has yet to see.

The silk travels from the edge of his collarbone to his left nipple in experimental circles, and Louis seeks Harry’s eyes with his own.

“How’s it feel, baby?” Harry asks softly, circling the silk around Louis’ quickly hardening nipple.

Swallowing yet another desperate sound, Louis struggles to find his voice. “I- ah, s’good”, he breathes, cheeks hot in confused embarrassment.

“Yeah?” Harry smiles, something bright dancing in the dark lust of his gaze. “You look amazing.” It’s a simple compliment, but it makes Louis smile despite his desperation, happy to be reassured so sincerely.

“I feel- silly”, his breath catches as the silk travels across his chest. “You’re making me all”, the blush on his cheeks deepens but he powers through, recalling the copious reminders of the importance of communication when discussing his virginity with various friends. “Embarrassed? It’s good but I’m. _Fuck_.”

Harry lays the scarf down on the mattress by Louis’ shoulder, straddling him gently. “It’s normal to feel a bit embarrassed. It’s your first time, it’s going to be a bit awkward.” Harry’s voice is gentle, but not as though he’s talking to a child; it’s encouraging and sincere, each word warmed with the sound of his smile.

Louis closes his eyes for a while, able to concentrate better now that the only thing touching him is the solid weight and warmth of Harry’s body. He seeks for the right words to say, countless questions running through his mind. “How was it? You know. For you.”

“My first time? It was quick”, Harry smirks. “I came in a matter of minutes. It was just supposed to be a handjob, but then he got his mouth on me and, well. I lost it, didn’t I.”

Louis feels almost absurd laughing. He’s not sure he’s allowed to do that in bed, wonders if it’s a massive turn off – if this entire conversation is destroying the feverish heat.

His eyes flicker to Harry’s cock, the sight of which is still as intimidating as it had been when he first laid eyes upon it; it’s big, at least to Louis’ inexperienced eye, and it’s. Well. It’s hard, and it. _Louis_ did that. _He_ made Harry hard.

He doesn’t manage to stiffen the giggle that bursts out of him with such force that he snorts, covering his face with a hand to hide his embarrassment. It takes him a minute to gather up enough courage and calm to peek through his fingers. He’s met with an amused-appearing Harry, who’s laughing almost inaudibly.

“Sorry. _God_ , I’m sorry, it’s not your dick”, Louis laughs, biting down on his lip most painfully to no avail; he can’t seem to stop laughing. “I mean. It’s p-perfect, oh”, he gasps for air before his laughter steals the rest of his words.

Harry gives him time to calm down before gently moving Louis’ hands from his face to look him in the eye.

“It’s just that I can’t b-believe”, Louis continues finally, breathless, “that I did that. Um. ‘Cause I’ve never. I mean.”

“You can’t believe I’m hard because of you?” Harry offers gently.

“Yeah.” Louis can’t quite believe his eyes when a hint of pink appears on Harry’s cheeks.

“It’s because I want you”, says Harry, his voice even. “And my body reacts to each sound you make, to every slight movement of your body. I find you very desirable.”

There are tears in Louis’ eyes, and redness to his face, his lips quirked up in an uncontrolled smile that makes his eyes crinkle. “Sorry I’m such a loser.”

Harry shakes his head, touching Louis’ heated cheek with his finger. “Not a loser. Just incredibly pretty.” He leans closer to kiss the tip of Louis’ nose, hovering above him so as not to overwhelm the boy with his weight.

Something makes the moment still.

The laughter dies in Louis’ throat, and his hand jerks awkwardly where it’s stretched out on the bed. Harry doesn’t seem to pay any mind to Louis’ nervousness, instead leaning closer to press a soft kiss on his lips.

He leans back then, before Louis can lean in for more, and moves to sit on his knees next to Louis, holding up the scarf and booping Louis’ nose with it, making him giggle.

The gentle tickles of the touch go straight to Louis’ dick as the scarf travels over his closed lids and heated cheeks, and he gasps with a hitch, toes curling into the mattress.

“You’re so pretty all over”, Harry says quietly. His eyes follow the silk down the side of Louis’ throat, the corner of his lips twitching up at Louis’ audible swallow as he draws an L on his collarbone.

“It’s fascinating to see how your muscles jump when I do this”, Harry runs the silk down to Louis’ tummy, drawing torturous figure eights that have Louis biting down on his lip. Harry hums, sprawling his hand out on Louis’ tummy and running the silk along the edges of his handprint. The heat of Harry’s hand makes the tingling more intense. Louis breathes in a gasp as they lock eyes once more. “But it’s the sounds you make”, he says quietly, pressing his hand down on Louis’ tummy gently, “that’s what gets to me the most.”

Louis feels lost in Harry’s eyes. They’re unlike any eyes he’s met before; so kind even in his nearly animalistic lust, that is more so apparent in his eyes than it is in the way he speaks. He speaks unlike most, is the thing, and if the words he spoke weren’t so seducing, perhaps the low rumble of his voice would set Louis’ skin afire.

Harry follows the scarf down Louis’ thigh with his lips, his breath hot on the shivering skin. He feels too desperate to be embarrassed about the way his body squirms, jerky and uncontrollable.

Harry, however, smirks as Louis’ leg kicks out. “You’re a mess, baby. I’m not even touching you and you’re practically about to come already.”

Louis’ moan resembles a breathless sob, and his dick twitches where it lays, untouched, on his wet tummy. “ _Master_.”

If Louis wasn’t so drunk on lust, he would notice the speed in which Harry’s head snaps up, but it is only Harry’s steadying hand on his bare thigh that makes his tummy turn in slight panic. Taking in the sight of Harry, wide-eyed with his messy curls sticking out of his bun in odd places, his mouth agape and breath shallow, Louis swallows thickly.

“What did you just call me?” Harry asks, voice raspy.

“I- I- uh”, Louis swallows again, the rapid beat of his heart making his panic obvious.

“Say that again.”

Louis’ entire body jerks as an intense wave of arousal washes over him at the demand. “Master”, he repeats, “Master. _Fuck_ , Master.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks. “That what I am to you, kitten? Your Master?”

“Fuck. Fuck, Master. Please”, Louis begs, reaching out to touch Harry’s hand, his thigh, his face -anything, _anything_ , he needs to touch, needs to, fuck, needs to get Harry’s attention any way he can. “Please Master, please.”

Harry must sense the urgency in Louis’ tone, for he now wraps his arm around Louis’ wrist, slamming it down against the mattress. “That’s right, baby. I’m your Master, and you’re going to be such a good boy for me, aren’t you? Going to make your Master so proud.”

Louis stares at Harry’s necklace. It’s swaying despite Harry’s stoic form above him, doing so to the rhythm of Louis’ shallow breath. Such small details rarely might occur to a person, but to Louis, it is a detail so enchanting he forgets to pay attention to the words falling off Harry’s tongue.

That is, until Harry’s fingers find their way to the side of Louis’ knee, petting lightly. “Kitten”, smiles Harry, lust ever apparent in his dominant tone despite the calming expression on his face. “I would very much like your attention on me.”

Blinking, slowly, Louis stares up at Harry. “Yes Master.”

“I was staring at you”, Harry says quietly, his fingers dancing on Louis’ heated skin, “earlier, on the dancefloor. I know you noticed me. But you’re used to people staring, aren’t you?”

Though the question comes with a chuckle, it feels to Louis as though he is being scolded. Scolded, for he is desirable, and innocent, and untouched, and irresistible. Words, all of which were said to him by Harry as he requested his company for his endeavors for the night. It was the manner in which he said them, with a drawl so slow it reminded Louis of the way he liked to pour honey in his tea in the afternoon; through a spoon slightly tilted, each drop a triumph of its own. Most he had liked how the words had melted his mind as hot water did to honey; persistently, inevitably.

And, much like he does his tea, it appears he prefers his company – sweet, steaming, and alone.

“I think you enjoy it. The staring. I think you find pleasure in knowing you are wanted, a thrill in being chased. How boring”, Harry says, appearing indifferent to Louis despite the cruel nature of his words. “It’s a pity. You enjoy feeling like a slut, but all you need is somebody to fuck the seductive little brat out of you.”

Louis whines high in his throat, a drop of precum leaking out of his sensitive dick. It draws Harry’s attention, although, as seems to be habit of him, in the most torturous manner; it is only Harry’s eyes that travel the length of it. The only action that tongue of his gets is the touch of his lips, followed by a gentle bite.

“Figures”, he chuckles. “The pretty boy likes humiliation. That get you off, princess?”

The pathetic sob he gets in answer seems to leave Harry frustrated.

“Say it, brat. Tell your Master how you like being humiliated.”

“F-fuck”, Louis gasps, “fuck, ah- I- fuck.”

“Don’t make me ask again.”

“I, fuck, _Master_ ”, he whines, back arching as he humps the air helplessly. “I. I love being h-humiliated.”

Where your ordinary man might raise a brow and offer a remark, Harry simply stares at him with a smug tint to his lips. “Was that so hard?”

With his intense stare on the trembling boy beneath him, Harry draws circles on his wrist with an unbearably light touch, as though there is nothing there; but somehow, miraculously, the touch brings upon him pleasure Harry was unable to provide with the scarf that now rested forgotten between Louis’ spread legs.

“Master”, he whines, his dick pulsating where it lays, untouched despite his best efforts. “Please Master. Fuck. Fuck me please, Master, please.”

Harry squeezes his wrist so hard it jerks instinctively, as it would if Louis were to pull away from him. Drawing in a sudden breath, Harry speaks. “I want to tie you up. Want to tie you up so you can’t leave. Gonna have you lay there beneath me as I stare at your shivering skin and your desperately leaking little dick, searching for friction only your Master can give.”

Louis’ dick gives a twitch so needy his cheeks heat up in shame, but he takes no action to cover the pleasure Harry’s words are giving him.

With his hand tight around Louis’ wrist, Harry touches his free hand to Louis’ arm, running his fingers up and down the soft skin. Louis squirms, but his wrist stays still under Harry’s tight grip.

“I want to use you. I like the thought of coming home to you naked on this bed, _our_ bed, ready for your Master. You would be that desperate, wouldn’t you? Would just wait there for your Master to come home and take care of you.”

Louis’ dick pulsates harder, his hips bucking up as though he’s fucking into something, but there’s no friction, there’s no, fuck, there’s, _fuck_.

“Would be on your tummy, scrolling your phone. You’d be half hard just thinking about what’s to come, thinking about what a slut you’re being for your Master. Would it turn you on, laying there, helpless, knowing I’m gonna walk through that door, straddle the back of your thighs and lean over to suck a bruise on that pretty neck of yours?”

With his eyes closed, Louis couldn’t possibly have expected it. Harry’s picked up the scarf now, and he’s holding it right above Louis’ crotch, the edge of it teasing the sensitive skin as he fucks up to it desperately.

“Look at you, fucking a scarf. Are you really this desperate? You’re ready to fuck a scarf just to feel something, to imagine you’re being touched? Is this what you do when you pleasure yourself, kitten? Will you go home tomorrow and touch yourself to this?”

Harry runs the scarf along the length of Louis’ dick then, making him sob and tremble, toes curling into the mattress as he seeks for relief.

“Answer me.”

Mouth agape, Louis stares at Harry with droopy eyes, struggling to form words. His brain consists simply of three words; Master, fuck, and please, and none of those seem to apply for the situation at hand.

Moving his lips helplessly with nothing but breathy gasps coming out, Louis buries his nails in the sheets.

“You look completely fucked out already. Haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already the neediest slut I’ve ever seen. Look fucking filthy fucking a scarf, so desperate to please your Master I don’t even have to pin you down to keep you from touching. I have to say”, Harry speaks, each word sending new waves of arousal into Louis’ leaking dick, “It’s kind of embarrassing. You’re so needy you’re probably gonna come fucking a scarf.”

It feels as though Louis’ losing himself, his _mind_ as Harry’s words pull him over the edge. Hips jerking uncontrollably into the torturous brush of the scarf that’s neither enough nor too much, his vision goes white as recurring jolts of the most euphoric pleasure rid him of reality.

The fog fades through Harry’s soft voice, his words unclear but gentle. Louis, with his face hidden behind his hands as the realization of what had just happened between them downs on him, is clinging on to the calming presence still hovering over his spent body. If it weren’t for the shame that’s left him speechless and frozen, perhaps the rough caress of Harry’s stubble on the smooth inside of his thigh would feel to him less unnerving.

There’s a need he can’t explain, an ache of a new kind. An ache which makes him most vulnerable, and dreadfully dependent on the words Harry’s still spoken to him, words which are slowly starting to filter through the euphoria he’d felt up until the shame took over.

“Such a good boy for me”, Harry’s repeating it, Louis thinks, though for sure he can’t say; it is feels as though he’s alternating between severe lack of consciousness and the most wonderfully clear understanding of the words spoken to him. “Took it so well, baby. Love teasing you like that. You’re so gorgeous, kitten, such a pretty boy. My beautiful baby.”

It occurs to Louis then; Harry is speaking as though it had happened before. As if Louis was his to tease and keep.

Rather shockingly, he finds he doesn’t mind the thought. Had he thought, when he’d gone along with a gorgeous man who’d introduced himself as any person of importance would, with confidence and indifference, that he’d end up sinking into his mattress? Surely not. There was something about Harry, however; a charm he couldn’t deny. Something persistent that knew something Louis didn’t: knew he’d be Harry’s by the end of the night, and while Louis may have had his doubts (he’d never gone through with a one-night-stand before, after all), Harry remained – ah, smug, Louis supposes would be a word for it.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Louis finally peeks through his fingers.

Harry looks angelic, the bastard. The elegant lamp above the bed is casting a halo above his head, baby hair sticking out of a bun that had once been done with impeccable care. As the darkness of his eyes subsided, it brought forth an enchanting green, surprisingly bright in the warm light that had been set to resemble that of a candle.

Louis finds he doesn’t so much care for Harry’s words now that his lips have caught his attention. They’re the pinkest shade that Louis has seen on a man sans lipstick, but it’s the corners of his lips that he finds most attractive; the way they turn up as Louis’ gaze lingers, and the soft pout of his bottom lip as he finally stops talking.

At ease with the newfound silence, Louis reaches out to touch Harry’s feverish face. His cheeks are tinted a rosy pink, the exact shade Louis often finds himself drawn to. The thought makes him smile.

“Are you falling in love?”

Louis laughs, loud and sudden. “Would that be so bad?”

With a soft smile, Harry shakes his head. “No. I’m keeping you.”

“Keeping me?”

“Yes. You’re mine.”

“I have been told”, Louis says, booping Harry’s nose with his forefinger, “that you cannot own a human. It sets an unhealthy standard on a relationship.”

“Don’t care.”

“Are we not commenting on a certain R-word?”

Harry beams. “I think I’d love to be in an R-word with you.”

Louis makes a face. Not one to back down from banter, he wiggles his brows. “Will you be my B-word?”

“I already hate us”, Harry shakes his head, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Unrealistic. Nobody moves this fast. We met tonight. Unhealthy, too. Completely irresponsible. It is likely you will throw me out with the rest of your waste by the end of this weekend, and then what will I tell my cat? She’ll be offended if she’s not the first one that learns about my first boyfriend, not to even mention my first _ex_ -boyfriend. Oh, she’s going to hate you.”

“Is there an off-button on you somewhere?” Harry makes a show of poking Louis’ torso. Louis, of course, will have no such behavior, and swats his hand away.

“Isn’t there another button you should be more concerned about finding?”

With his legs fully spread out under Harry, he’s still unable to intertwine their toes as he’d desired to do. He settles for wrapping his legs around a lone leg of Harry’s.

“I’ll loosen up your buttons, baby”, comes the answer with a wink, and seriously, if Harry doesn’t throw him out, Louis must make certain to jump aboard that garbage truck himself. “There’s a cat?”

“Two, actually, but Ö’s a bitch. He’s not _really_ a bitch, but if he heard I had a boyfriend he’d cut your neck off with a blunt claw. He’s awfully possessive, that one.”

“It seems me and this Ö-person have a lot in common.”

“Person? Need I remind-“

“Cats are human too, Louis. Which reminds _me_ , you never did answer my question. Will you be my boyfriend, princess?”

Shaking his head gently, Louis watches Harry’s face fall - only to witness the way his skin crinkles under his eyes and cheek folds into a dimple as he finally nods. “Yes, loser, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

And, as it turns out, looking back to that moment years later, it is the best decision he ever made.

Well, that, and drawing a red line on Harry’s throat with a stuffed cat toy hanging onto it by its claw. As much as Harry insisted on hating it, he wore it three consecutive Halloweens.

**Author's Note:**

> And lastly, I would like to thank Another Man for the most gorgeous photo shoot which inspired my vision of Harry.


End file.
